


The Big Push

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, Gen, Gift Fic, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-17
Updated: 2012-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-08 00:08:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  Riza’s going to give her all.  As always.  <br/>Disclaimer:  Arakawa owns all, and Bones just pays her rent.  I’m riding on a feather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Big Push

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cornerofmadness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/gifts).



You can do this. It might be the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life, but you can do this. You just focus, try to control your breathing, concentrate, _concentrate._ That’s the hard part, you keep getting distracted by the voices around you. Some of them are calm, some of them are excited. One of them is definitely freaking out. You wish you could tell that one to just shut up. His voice keeps rising until the pitch hurts your ears, but you’re too busy concentrating and focusing to yell at him. Besides, you’re getting orders, and you’re a good soldier, you follow orders. So you grit your teeth and ignore _him_ and his panic attack, and pay attention, and focus. Even if you’re tired and sore and so damned ready for this to be over, when you hear, “It’s time now. Push, push down hard!” you do, groaning. 

“The head’s crowning,” someone says, and you grit your teeth when you’re told again to push, _push_ , even though you’re so tired, and you just want to rest – 

And then there’s a cheer, and something _slips_ and you let out a cry, maybe of exultation, maybe of relief. You lie in the bliss of no pain for a few seconds, hearing a faint wail, somewhat reminiscent of _his_. 

“It’s a girl, Mrs. Mustang,” the doctor says, and hands you a bundle of bloody goo and flesh, letting her rest against your breast as you catch your breath. 

And you think, there’s nothing more beautiful, ever.


End file.
